


Still Holding Out for You

by Sherlollylocked



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 16:51:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9830810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlollylocked/pseuds/Sherlollylocked
Summary: Molly's POV during Sherlock's absence after TRF, based on the song by SheDaisy "Still Holding Out for You"





	

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing....not the song or the characters involved, just love them to bits.
> 
> I've been reading all of y'all's amazing works for about 5 months now and wrote this about a month ago.  
> This is my first fanfic (hope it's ok :\ ) I love music and Sherlolly and if I write anything else it will probably be songfics since music seems to speak to me and Sherlolly seems to be my constant companion. I kind of have a companion piece to this in my head in Sherlock's POV (but I'm kind of scared to write him). Hope this doesn't seem to OOC.

Still Holding Out for You  
SheDaisy

Never thought I’d be in this place  
It’s someone else’s life I’m living  
Wish I were living a lie  
The hardest part is when the bough breaks  
Falling down and then forgiving  
You didn’t kiss me goodbye  
I’m choking on the words I didn’t get to say  
And I pray I get the chance one day

Molly never thought she would have helped Sherlock Holmes fake his death, just going over the plan with him felt bizarre considering up until a few hours ago she thought she didn’t count, she was still getting used to that knowledge.  
Molly realized after the fact all of the lies her future would hold for however long it took for Sherlock to dismantle Moriarty’s network. The burden of this knowledge overwhelmed her when she allowed herself to think about it. Apparently Sherlock was telling the truth when he said that he always trusted her, otherwise he wouldn’t have included her in the plan.  
She’d dreamed of Sherlock kissing her countless times but most of those fantasies included Sherlock also declaring his hidden feelings of love for her. She knew that is all she would ever have dreams, but he could have at least have given her a thank you/ good bye kiss for everything that she’d done and would be doing for him for the foreseeable future.  
She may not have actually said those three little big words, but even the emotionally blind Sherlock Holmes had to have some clue of what she felt for him. He’d used those feelings often enough to manipulate her over the years. Being in love with him may have made her feel stupid sometimes but it had also made her invaluable to him in a way no one expected. Maybe it would make her brave by the time he came back and she would actually tell him how much she loved him.

I still run  
I still swing open the door  
I still think you’ll be there like before  
Doesn’t anybody out there know to never come around  
Some things a heart won’t listen to I’m still holding out for you

I can hear you smile in the dark  
I can even feel you breathing  
When the daylight chases the ghost  
I see your coat and I fall apart  
To those hints of you I’m clinging  
Now’s when I need them most  
I should get up, dry my eyes and move ahead  
At least that’s what he would have said

When Molly agreed to help Sherlock fake his death she did not know exactly what she was getting into, she didn’t realize she was going to have a temporary roommate, even if it only lasted for a week after the Fall. She got to know a bit more of the man-child she’d only seen snatches of over the years when he was in the morgue and lab. She really shouldn’t have been surprised that he would “suggest” he take her bedroom over, since he needed the space.  
On the last day of his stay at the apartment Molly attended his “funeral” and was emotionally raw by the time she returned home. Before she got there she realized she was in no mood to deal with his antics. Fortunately, when she left that morning he had decided to camp out on the couch so her room was vacant. He seemed to be in his mind palace because he didn’t even acknowledge her when she walked in the apartment.  
She went quietly into her room and locked the door (stupid, she thought, considering the master of the lock pick was sitting in the next room, but it gave her a little false sense of security. Maybe he would realize she wanted to be left alone). She removed her shoes and fell into bed and pulled the blankets over her head and let out all of the emotions that she had kept bottled up for the past week. Although, she had cried some tears at the funeral, she had been strong for everyone else and her grip on that control vanished as she snuggled into the blankets.  
She cried herself into an exhausted sleep. Dreams crept into her emotionally raw mind that night and were probably encouraged by the fact that her bed smelt like Sherlock, since he’d been sleeping or in his mind palace in her bed for a week. She dreamt that he crawled into the bed and held her and tried to comfort her as she cried off and on throughout the night and held her when exhaustion forced her fall asleep again.  
They were lovely dreams, and seemed more realistic than previous dreams she’d had of Sherlock holding her as she slept, because she thought she could even remember feeling him breath but she knew that dreams were all they were. When she woke up the next morning Sherlock was no where to be found, it felt like he was a ghost. As Molly looked around the apartment she started wondering if just maybe she had imagined him being there for the week, there wasn’t any evidence that he’d been there.  
While getting ready for work on Monday, Molly reached in her closet for her cherry jumper (one that she was sure he hated, he seemed to hate all of her clothes) only to find his Belstaff and scarf and the tears start falling again. It would make sense that he would leave his signature coat behind, it would have called attention to him. As the tears flowed down her cheeks she wondered again if she would ever stop crying. She thought it seemed completely mental for her to morn him since she knew he was alive; after all she’d just seen him yesterday. But part of her knew that when he left he wouldn’t keep in contact with her, she had served her purpose, and no matter what he had told her she still had a hard time believing that she really counted.  
After a relatively short cry and she hung his coat back up and finish getting ready for work. She knew exactly what he would tell her about all of the crying she was doing, chemical defect and all that. She knew that work would keep her busy even though it would take awhile to not look for him in the morgue or lab.

I still run  
I still swing open the door  
I still think you’ll be there like before  
Doesn’t anybody out there know to never come around  
Some things a heart won’t listen to I’m still holding out for you  
Faithfully, I trace your name while you sleep  
It’s the only true comfort I feel

It had been almost eighteen months since Sherlock died. Life had gone on and it felt odd because those first months, even that first year it sometimes seemed like they were stuck in an abyss of pain. Somehow they each found a way, day by day to make it though and slowly, almost imperceptibly things changed and they started to heal. Everyone seemed to move on, John started dating Mary Morstan and Molly had even found a boyfriend.  
Molly still had times that were very difficult on her, even after Tom came in the picture. She still worried about Sherlock, wondering if he was okay, if he was still alive and on his mission or if he had been killed by one of Moriarty’s henchmen. She liked to think that he was fine because surely she would feel it in her soul if he was actually gone.  
On her dark days she would go to his gravesite. She would sit there and talk to him, tell him about some of the bizarre causes of death she’d had come across her autopsy table or cases that Lestrade had that she worked on. She would trace his name on the black gravestone. While she talked to him. It gave her comfort, made her feel closer to Sherlock somehow. A few times she would even fall into an exhausted sleep, much like the one she fell into the night of his funeral and his last night at her apartment.  
Those dark days and those exhausted sleeps left her with those strangely realistic dreams she’d had that last night. Somehow when she woke up she would be back in her apartment and she could almost smell Sherlock again and she would be lying under his Belstaff. She didn’t try to figure out how she got back to her apartment, thinking it was probably similar to when she would go out with her friends for a girls’ night and drunkenly make her way home.

I still run  
I still swing open the door  
I still think you’ll be there like before  
I still run  
I still swing open the door  
I still think you’ll be there like before  
Doesn’t everybody out there know to never come around  
Some things a heart won’t listen to  
I’m still holding out for you  
Holding out for you  
The dark days seemed to be less and less as Tom became more a part of her everyday life. She knew that she loved Tom, he was a sweet guy. He didn’t ask questions about the man’s coat and scarf that hung in her closet or why some days she would choose to be completely alone, not even answering her phone, why she didn’t want anyone to come around. On some of those days when she was completely alone in her apartment, she would hear noises at her front door, like someone trying to pick the lock and she would run to the door and swing it open, thinking it was him, coming to use his bolt hole. Tears would stream down her face when she saw he wasn’t standing outside the door.  
There were times that she felt guilty for those days that she mourned Sherlock so desperately; she felt like she was betraying Tom. She loved Tom, she did, but it was not the all consuming love she felt for Sherlock. She rationalized it by thinking Sherlock was the love of her life, even if it was an unrequited love, and any other love would not compare to it or surpass it and she would just have to be as happy as she could be with whatever love she was fortunate enough to find.  
Almost two years was a long time for her to not have any news from Sherlock and with her mind determined to love Tom in whatever way she was capable of she accepted his marriage proposal. Even with her accepting the proposal Molly knew there would always be a part of her heart, no matter how locked up she had it, that would always, always hold out of the return of Sherlock Holmes. Even if she could never love him the way she wanted to and even if he never reciprocated her love, she would just be happy if he returned from the dead and somehow be a part of her life again.


End file.
